It’s been a busy week this week. McMini is due to go on a school trip which involves two nights away. I have therefore been spending most of the week with a list of required clothing working out which items we have and buying the ones we don’t have. Pretty much all of them.

In order to try and train McCat out of some of his many behavioural problems, I have bought a thing that senses when he goes near the bin to flip the lid off and search for scraps and squirts a jet of air. Unfortunately, though this is working, the people who set it off 99.99999999% of the time are McMini and McOther.

It’s nearly run out already and judging by the cost of the refills it’s actual solid gold in there rather than the air the makers claim, or it’s liquidised diamonds or something. I thought one would do but with my menfolk, no chance, it’ll be hard put to last the week.

I also bought a static electric mat. Unfortunately it comes with no meaningful instructions. I think I switched it on but after an hour it started beeping and the battery died. I haven’t tried it since.

Ho hum … a partial success then.

Sadly, I also jinxed any chance of tobogganing joy this weekend by retrieving the one I had as a kid from Mum and Dad’s, barn, washing the mouse and spider pooh off it, along with the yucky, knackered crispy wood louse carapaces left by the spiders, and bringing it home. Turns out it’s a bit older than I thought as it’s a Flexible Flyer No 1.

It looks as if it may be Great Grandpa’s rather than Granny’s. Luckily, I don’t think that makes it any more valuable, so it’s still worth the same as a modern replacement, which means we can use it. Oh yeh.

Except for that bit about the jinxing. Yes, now that we have a slightly more McMini-friendly toboggan, we have had the usual boring Bury St Edmunds snow: chuffing cold, snows all day but doesn’t sit. Seriously I have no idea how it can be this fucking cold and still melt. It’s a bastard miracle. Climatologists should look into it because frankly, I reckon there’s something going on. Also, I’m getting a bit bored of being cold. I wish it would either snow properly or just piss off. It’ll probably snow properly tomorrow when I’m at my club dig out in the country at the bottom of a hill (note to self, take a tow rope).

Also this week, I went with Mum to the funeral of a lovely lady who used to go to their church. The chap doing the eulogy told a splendid story this lady used to tell about the time a ME109 was brought down on the Downs near Steyning.

The word spread like wild fire and everyone armed themselves with pitchforks, kitchen knives, pickaxe handles etc and went off to capture the pilot. Meanwhile, the gentleman in question unwittingly evaded capture and was discovered wandering local lanes by someone taking an afternoon constitutional, someone who was unaware that a dangerous armed enemy was on the loose. The pilot asked, politely, if they could tell him the way to the local police station. Unaware of the posse the other side of the Downs looking for him, he then calmly followed the directions he’d been given and handed himself in. Stories like these say so much about human nature.

In a bid to keep the screen time to quality time, I have given up doing the social media stuff in the evening in front of the telly in favour of knitting. I now have seven pairs of socks – and I’ve only shrunk two pairs so far – along with a smaller pair for McMini, and a pussy hat – but in red and light pink because militant use of pink is vile and gives me the boke.

Meanwhile McOther has purchased an Alexa. It’s quite good but not able to answer many questions. For example, I asked it how to make pasta the other day … about seventy times.

Try as I might I couldn’t get it to understand that I wanted it to make actual pasta, not a pasta dish. It came up with a whole variety of pasta dishes but not the ration of eggs to flour I required to knock up a few sheets of lasagne. It was like …

‘Alexa, can you give me the recipe for pasta.’ ‘I found this recipe for pasta with meatballs on Recepidia.’ ‘No, stop Alexa. I meant the actual pasta.’ ‘I found this recipe for beef ragu with fusilli.’ ‘Stop Alexa, please. OK, Alexa, if I have some flour and an egg and I’m Italian what can I make?’ ‘I’m sorry, I can’t help you with that.’ ‘Jeez …’ Recording of dull thudding sound made by MTM’s head beating against the kitchen work surface, ‘I just want to make a lasagne sheet, Alexa.’ ‘Lasagne is a dish comprising tomatoes, bechamel sauce and-‘ ‘Alexa stop. What are the ratios of egg to flour I need to make pasta.’ ‘I found this great recipe on Recipedia for egg and spinach-‘ ‘NO! Alexa STOP! Don’t they have the recipe for pasta on Recipedia?’ ‘There’s a recipe for salmon and seafood with pasta shells, difficulty level, easy on Recipedia-‘ ‘Alexa STOP! For the love of God, or I shall do you an injury.’

And so on ad infinitum. Alexa stores all these exchanges on an app on McOther’s iPad. I think he enjoyed reading that one.

This morning, I overhead McMini talking to it.

‘Alexa can you set a timer for cheese?’ ‘I’m sorry I do not understand your question.’ ‘Oh. OK. Alexa, set a timer for seven years.’ ‘I’m sorry I can only set a timer for a time within the next 24 hours.’ ‘Hmm … OK. Alexa, set a timer for seven hours.’

It might be sensible to occasionally say, ‘Alexa, stop timer,’ to it I think. Just in case.

In next week’s post I’ll be talking shop. I’m giving a talk called, ‘Real Life is underrated. Using mundane events to fuel your writing mojo,’ and since it’s 1,200 words long, I thought I’d reproduce it here, for your delectation, as I deliver it. And also because I’ll be actually doing the talk at the time, so I won’t be here to write a blog post … so … until next week!

As always, you are a delight. I’m lying in a sunbeam through the window. It is a 50-degree day in March and I’m finally getting why cats just like to lay down and purr, soaking up heat rays. You may mourn the lack of snow. But I am reveling in its absence. Good luck with the presentation. Try not to be deadly dull—that’s my only advice!

Alexa and Siri scare me. Especially if the dialogue is captured for others’ enjoyment later! If you ever try for pasta again, you may want to consider “how do I make pasta/lasagna noodles from scratch?”
(I have a friend with a recipe, I think. I could ask for you, if you like. Her name is not Alexa.)
Making pasta from scratch? Impressive!
Knitting socks (7 pairs?!?) Wow!
Where do you find the time for all of what you do?
I look forward to your next post — and will try to remember to think about you as you present. Great idea to do them simultaneously.

K’Barthan Trilogy on Amazon UK

Few Are Chosen in paperback (click image):
Kindle version:Few Are Chosen (The K'Barthan Trilogy)
The Wrong Stuff in paperback (click image):
Kindle version:
The Wrong Stuff, K'Barthan Trilogy: Part 2
A Splendid Salmagundi, contains a short and a poem from me, and some cracking stuff from some other, distinguished authors who you may even have heard of...
Indie Bites: Fourteen diverse tales showcasing the talent bubbling away in the indie scene.

Follow Blog via Email

Anotherward Winning Author.

Indie Book Bargains Featured Author

Awesome Indies Approved

Few Are Chosen, K'Barthan Trilogy: No 1 has been awared the Awesome Indies Seal of Approval

Award Winning Author (Phnark).

A group of London teenagers judging the Wishing Shelf Book Awards awarded a silver award to Few Are Chosen, K'Barthan Trilogy: Part 1. Escape From B-Movie Hell was also voted a winner - of a bronze medal this time - in 2015.